Hardwired
by jagter se maan
Summary: Following the events of an electrifying day, Greg finds himself a new hobby at home. Archie's self-appointed job is to make sure Greg is coping. The result...


**Hardwired**

What Archie walked into reminded him of Lain's bedroom. Wires, everywhere, in some invisible order; several large machines sitting distinctly out of place in the middle of the room, connected to each other with metal plates and more wires and why was anybody's guess. The three machines he could see formed a triangle, with too many tubes and plates between each to really see inside them.

He stepped forward carefully, and wondered what the hell his friend was up to. 'Greg?'

'Yeah!' came the immediate reply - from inside the tripod monster. Greg popped his head out of the top a moment later, hair messy and looking curiously bemused to see Archie standing by the front door. 'Hey, Archie. What have you been doing?'

'Me?' Archie gave a lame shrug. 'I've been accosted by several people who want assurances that you're faring OK,' he replied lightly, tilting his head to get a better view into Greg's hidey-hole. There didn't seem to be an opening, not one somebody Greg's size and build could conceivably squeeze through.

'Yeah, I'm OK.' Greg thought about this for a second, frowned, and disappeared again. The contraption as a whole seemed to move, shuddering, then Greg stood on the opposite side of it as Archie, who walked over to meet him and see what _exactly_ had just transpired.

One glance told him there wasn't a door. What the hell. Archie gave Greg his best Explain This Now Else I Call Your _Mom_ patented stare. And for added measure, he said levelly, 'What is all this, Greg?'

'Oh, it isn't anything.' He shrugged with a slight smile. 'I can't tell you yet. I'm not done so - you'll have to wait.' Greg moved to the couch (covered in small color-coded gym bags, little Ziplocs full of buttons and wires, some snacks on the armrest, and a music player turned inside out). He grabbed a yellow-coded bag, and made a move to go back inside his monster machine creation.

Archie grabbed his arm. '**Greg**,' he said with emphasis and Greg turned to face him, eyebrows raised in question, 'this is some sort of electronics, right?'

'Yeah, might be,' Greg answered, purposely vague.

Archie frowned. 'How do you know how to do all of this?'

It was worrisome because Greg had never shown any distinct flair for gadgetry before the last month, before the attempt on his life - but also because, Archie would admit, gadgets were his specialty, and he liked that. Whatever Greg was building, it would take Archie a month in itself to get so much complicated work done, even having no job to distract him. Archie had no qualms about his talents; he was good. But _what_ was all of this?

Greg gestured toward the kitchen behind them: the table under the window was piled with books and DVDs.

'I've read some. I mean, I've got the basics down, and none of this is really much past basics...' He trailed off, clearly reading the disbelief in Archie's body language and expression. 'Anyway, I'm not working but I got several checks, and I don't pay for my apartment, and also, I was...bored?'

Archie knew about the apartment, the Sanders had finished payments long before their son moved to Las Vegas. And yes, he'd known Greg was bored, if his new hobby of flower arranging said anything. Greg's was the type of personality that absolutely _needed_ something to do at all points in time, not necessarily to keep him busy all the time but to focus his energy. A Greg with nothing planned was hazardous.

He glanced over the apartment that he could see from his spot next to Greg's creative madness as the genius himself once again disappeared into his tubes and wires. Greg's friends would be getting the all green from Archie, he decided. The rooms were neat and clean now that Greg had the spare time to take care of things; none of the food in the fridge was bad (quite the opposite: all organic, pricey as hell in Vegas); Greg seemed content. Actually, Archie got the feeling that the car battery Greg had been fried by had more supercharged his brain than done it harm.

OK, he'd had to relearn everything, and he still forgot sometimes who people were. But times like this, you would never know it. Greg seemed...wired. Archie laughed to himself at his horribly lame pun. 'OK, Greg. I'm going home, but I'll drop by in a day or so.'

'Bye, Archie!' One of the metal plates started blinking slowly, and Archie shook his head as he closed the front door behind him. At this rate Greg would turn into a crazy fusion of Einstein and Da Vinci; he had the wacky hairstyles down, and Archie knew few people who could match his imagination.

All he needed was a crazy memorable name.

And maybe a girlfriend.

* * *

Author: jagter se maan

Status: Complete [July 2008]

_Suggested Audio_: "Straight to Video" (MSI)


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